


Plausible Deniability

by Metal_Chocobo



Category: Lemonade Mouth (2011)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cat Burglars, Espionage, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-21
Updated: 2017-03-21
Packaged: 2018-10-08 18:52:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10393839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Metal_Chocobo/pseuds/Metal_Chocobo
Summary: The last thing Mo expected was for Stella Yamada to drop in on her at the Russian embassy. Literally.





	

The last thing Mo expected was for Stella Yamada to drop in on her at the Russian embassy. Literally. Okay, not quite literally, as the accused art thief landed next to her and not actually on top of her, but she definitely dropped from above. After taking in the initial sight of Stella in a slightly dusty tuxedo, she glanced up to see a large open vent—apparently large enough to fit a person—with its grating loosely flapping.

“What the hell were you doing in the vents, Yamada?” Mo hissed.

“Who said anything about me being in the vents, Mohini?” Stella asked. She pulled a chair over so that she could reach the grating. After a moment of fiddling, the grating was secured and she was off the chair.

“That’s Agent Banjaree to you,” Mo snapped. She noted the white gloves on Stella’s hands as she smoothed the plush seat of the chair, wiping away any evidence she had ever stood on it. “I suppose those are to hide fingerprints?”

“Surely we’re close enough to be on a first name basis, Agent,” Stella said, shooting her a disapproving glance. “I merely know how to accessorize for a black tie event.”

“Stella,” Mo said in a warning tone. She was not playing games tonight. She didn’t know how Stella even got in here, but Mo was on assignment. She had a job to do and nothing would keep her from it.

“Now come on, Mohini,” Stella said, pushing Mo toward the door. “We can’t tie up the bathroom for too long or tongues will start wagging.”

They got a few glances as they exited the restroom, but not from anyone important. Stella must have dusted off her jacket because as she moved ahead, Mo could see no sign of her adventure through the ductwork. She wanted to continue following Stella, figure out what she was doing at the party, but a hand grabbed her arm, slowing her enough that she lost her quarry.

“What took you so long?” Scott murmured in her ear. He wasn’t the most effective agent, but he was observant and Mo trusted him to watch her back. “I was getting worried.”

“Woman problems,” Mo replied. While true, it wasn’t strictly accurate. At least it got Scott to let go and back up. Men. They always get so queasy over a little blood.

“But you’re okay now?”

“I’m fine, Scott, but there’s something I need to go follow up. Have you talked with the ambassador yet?”

“I was waiting for you.”

“Don’t. You’re better with these manly types than I am,” Mo said, patting his arm.

It was true. Mo had a bad habit of getting fed up when exposed to prolonged machismo. It was probably why she hadn’t made the transition from staff to line jobs yet. However, Scott could schmooze with the best of them and still appear interested after hours of boring chitchat. That was why he was here. Mo’s function was different.

“Surely you want to be introduced.” Scott frowned. “I worry about you; you don’t network enough.”

“The less people who notice me, the better. I like being invisible.” 

Scott snorted and gestured at her. “In that dress? Impossible.”

Mo glanced down at her red dress. Fashioned in a local boutique, the dress had a slimming waist, modest hemline, and short sleeves that highlighted her shoulders. Unlike her male counterpart, Mo couldn’t just show up in a tux and blend into the party decor. She had to be highly fashionable in a current dress that didn’t outshine the most important ladies’ outfits. Otherwise she’d stick out just as much, at least to the women, as if she’d shown up in a burlap sack. She had thought Scott understood that.

“I appreciate the compliment, but I really do blend in like this.” Mo pointed to a trio of blondes in blue cocktail dresses. “Can you tell them apart?”

“Point taken.”

As she scanned the room Mo spotted a feminine figure in a suit headed up the stairs. She’d recognize that outline anywhere. Without saying another word to her partner, Mo drifted into the crowd. She didn’t cut a straight line to the stairs—that would be too obvious. Instead, she floated from person to person, making idle chitchat as she drew ever nearer to the stairs. When she reached the steps, she casually glanced for watchful eyes and then trotted up before anyone spotted her.

At the top she quickly moved out of view of the crowd below and zeroed in on Stella down the hall, bent over a doorknob. Squelching her first instinct to call out and stop bad behavior, Mo silently advanced, intent on catching her in the act. However, she stepped on a creaky board and Stella looked up at the sound.

“Mohini, you couldn’t stay away from me, eh?” Stella grinned, leaning against the door. “I know I’m irresistible, but it’s always nice to have reconfirmation.”

“What were you doing to that door?” Mo demanded.

“A buddy of mine is a techie and he bitches about these magnetic stripe card locks. I mean, you know where you stand with a good old-fashioned deadbolt. But the key cards for these things fail the instant there’s a magnet in their general vicinity.” Stella shrugged nonchalantly and Mo found herself wanting to agree with her, though she was certain Stella was trying to sell her a bill of goods. She just hadn’t spotted the bullshit yet.

“Go on.”

“Anyway, my buddy insists that these things are so defunct that sometimes the locking mechanism will stop working for no reason. Just bam,” Stella said, snapping her fingers. Mo rolled her eyes. There was the lie. Stella shrugged and smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, I know it sounds like a joke, and he was probably pulling my leg, but now I can’t help testing every card door I come across. I have insatiable curiosity.”

“Curiosity killed the cat burglar.”

“And satisfaction brought her back,” Stella retorted. “Luckily, I’m not a cat burglar, so your rhyme doesn’t apply.”

“Get it over with, jiggle the handle,” Mo sighed. “Then I can escort you back to the party.”

“Ooo, now I kinda hope this won’t open. You should totally escort me onto the dance floor,” Stella laughed. She reached down, twisted the handle, and the door opened. Stella stumbled back a step, but never lost her smile. “What do you know, it seems my buddy was right.”

“What did you do to that door?”

“I opened it. You told me to try. Come on, let’s go look inside. I know you want to.”

Before Mo could protest, Stella pulled her inside by the wrist. She came to a stop against Stella’s chest. Mo’s breath caught. She had this sudden urge to run her hands across Stella’s chest and only remembered herself when she felt a hand gently press against the small of her back. Still, she wasn’t quite willing to pull away from the other woman, choosing to stare at her instead, even as the door swung shut. Considering her ego, it was distressing how attractive Stella Yamada was at all times.

“You gonna say something or just keep staring into my eyes?” Stella asked. “Because I’m good either way.”

“This is a nice tuxedo.” Mo cringed the moment the words were out of her mouth, but the fabric felt wonderful under her fingertips. It felt so soft and smooth under her fingers, unlike Scott’s wool tux, and she knew it had to be made of satin or possibly silk. It was also quite lightweight. Mo could almost feel the definition in Stella’s biceps through the jacket.

“I have an excellent tailor who knows how to accentuate all the right places.”

“How exactly do you afford such a tailor?” Mo asked. She adjusted Stella’s red bowtie. “Quality like this does not come cheap and the rumor mill suggests the job listed on your taxes doesn’t bring in this sort of income.”

“My tax forms aren’t exactly first date conversation material.” Stella leaned in so that her lips brushed Mo’s ear as she whispered, “I promise I have much more titillating lines of inquiry for you to pursue.”

“I highly doubt that,” Mo said, pulling away from her with a smirk. “Your personal income is of utmost interest to me, Ms. Thief.”

“Excuse you, I am an alleged thief,” Stella sniffed, crossing her arms. “I’ve never been convicted of any sort of crime. Questioned, perhaps, but never convicted.”

“I should ignore all those arrests?”

“Yes! You know how it is, after the first time you’re arrested under suspicious circumstances, the police keep returning to arrest you again if anything similar happens—even if you weren’t in the country when it happened—because if you weren’t guilty of the initial crime, then you have to be guilty of something. Cops assume that if you were squeaky clean enough to avoid their initial conviction, then you’re obviously hiding something much worse!”

Mo had to admit that was a common law enforcement mentality, especially for some officers interacting with minorities. However, she didn’t think that applied in Stella’s particular case. She had been a person of interest in too many art thefts in too many countries for that to fly. Paris still wanted her for questioning in relation to a case last year.

“Really, you should consider me a regular old law abiding citizen.”

“Stella, you are anything, but regular.”

Since they were in this private office that they had technically not broken into—after all, Mo hadn’t _seen_ Stella do anything to that door, she simply suspected it—Mo ought to take advantage of the situation. She wandered over to a bookcase and perused the titles, looking for anything of interest. She was better at speaking Russian than reading it, but everything on the shelves seemed perfectly innocuous. The typical sort of books that would be found in a clerk’s office in any US embassy around the globe, save for the fact they were in Russian. No, if there was anything of value it had to be in the desk.

Mo glanced at Stella, who stood by the desk playing with a glass paperweight. Could she raid the desk without the other woman noticing? Perhaps. Mo could distract her and stuff something into her purse was Stella was otherwise occupied. In any case, she wouldn’t get anything from this unauthorized exploration if she didn’t get over to that desk.

Mo swung her hips a little more as she walked toward the desk. She was amused to see Stella do a double take when she noticed Mo walking toward her. With a put upon sigh, Stella set the glass bauble down and dropped into the plush leather chair that no doubt normally held a Russian’s rear. She put her hands behind her head and kicked her feet up onto the desk.

“Coming to keep an eye on me, Agent? I’m not about to steal trinkets off some paper pusher’s desk.”

“I believe you,” Mo said. She sat down on the desktop near Stella and crossed her legs. “Your tastes in larceny run a little more expensive.”

“What exactly do I have to do to prove to you I’m not a thief?” Stella asked. She got to her feet. “Yes, I have expensive tastes. Yes, I only want high quality things, and yes, I love fine art, but that does not mean I steal it!”

“Is that so? Then what would you steal, if you could?”

“You,” Stella said. Then she kissed her.

Even though she had goaded her into this, the kiss still caught Mo off guard. Not that she had spent a lot of time imagining Stella Yamada kissing her, but it was gentler than she had expected. She definitely gave her a chance to pull away if she wanted. Mo didn’t move. In the end, Stella was the first to back off. When she did, she blinked twice and licked her lips before smiling nervously.

“For the record, that wasn’t a kidnapping threat,” Stella said. “I was being metaphoric.”

“I figured.”

This time Mo initiated the kissing. Stella seemed a little off balance at first, but then she stepped closer, wrapped her arms around Mo, and increased the intensity. Kissing Stella was a surprisingly pleasant experience. Mo could tell she took proper care of her lips simply by looking at them, but they were soft, plump, and pleasant to touch, unlike Mo’s last boyfriend’s dry scaly lips. Stella also knew how to kiss—unlike Mo’s second boyfriend, who drooled worse than a Saint Bernard—and when she slipped her tongue into Mo’s mouth it didn’t feel like an invasion.

She felt positively overheated as Stella moved on to kiss at her ear and neck. Her fingers had wormed their way under the suit jacket and half divested her of it. Since the jacket’s current position was a hindrance, Stella shook it off without shifting her attention away from Mo. Then she tangled her fingers in Mo’s hair and Mo could feel the other hand sliding down the outside of her thigh through the fabric of her dress. Her own hands dug into the twill fabric hugging Stella’s sides, pulling it out of her pants. Mo vaguely wondered how much force the shirt could withstand before it started losing buttons.

However, before she could start experimenting, the door opened. Mo heard a man swear in Russian. She twisted to look over her shoulder and saw a boar of a man stuffed into a suit glaring at them. Stella still hadn’t stopped kissing her, so Mo pushed her away.

“What are you doing?” he demanded. “This room is off limits!”

“What does it look like we’re doing?” Stella retorted, gesturing at the lack of space between Mo and her. “We just wanted a place to get to know each other a little more intimately and was more private than the coatroom.”

“Stella,” Mo hissed. Stella winked at her. She scooped her tuxedo jacket off the floor and slowly pulled it on as she strolled toward the embassy official.

“Can you really blame me?” Stella asked once she was closer. “She’s absolutely gorgeous and we’ve been hitting it off all night. I’d take her home, party be damned, but her boss won’t let her go until he’s ready to go and I couldn’t wait any longer. When we found this room unlocked it seemed like a sign.”

“This room should not be unlocked.”

“Well, it was. I don’t know what to say about that.”

As Stella continued chatting with him, Mo quietly dug through the desk’s drawers. She didn’t know if Stella was intentionally distracting him so that she could do this or if she was simply trying to talk her way out of trouble, but she appreciated it nonetheless. Any piece of paper she found went straight into her purse in case it was valuable. She’d sort through it later or leave that task to the lab.

“Hey, what are you doing over there?” the man suddenly snapped.

“Oh, I’m just making myself presentable,” Mo replied. She quietly shut the drawer and zipped her purse shut. No use in getting caught now.

“If you’re decent, we should go, sweetheart. You can fix your makeup in the bathroom,” Stella said. “Of course, you may not want to bother, since I’ll just mess it up again.”

Mo slipped off the desk and walked over to the others with her purse carefully stowed. Stella wrapped a protective arm around her waist and grinned at the official. Other than staring her physical attributes, he didn’t register Mo’s presence. Good. She liked remaining underestimated.

“Again, so sorry about the mix-up. We really didn’t realize this room was off limits. Honest mistake,” Stella laughed as she steered Mo out the door. “Oh, by the way, if you stumble across a pair of panties in there, that totally wasn’t from us. In no way, shape, or form did we lose a pair in there.”

The man grunted then slammed the door shut. They took a few steps toward the stairs. When Mo was certain he wasn’t about to come back out, she smacked Stella a couple of times with her purse.

“What the hell was that bit about the underwear?”

“I was simply telling the truth!” Stella protested, holding her hands up to ward off the purse. “Besides, you’ll notice he didn’t escort us down the stairs, which you know he was going to do if I hadn’t sent him on that wild panty chase.”

Stella had a point. To acknowledge this fact, Mo gave her a wet wipe from her purse to deal with the lipstick smears across her face. They took a minute to clean up and reapply makeup before heading back down to the party like they hadn’t just been making out and stealing state secrets. Though to be fair, the Russians considered the number of erasers they ordered a state secret.

There was a waltz going on and as soon as she stepped off the stairs Stella swept Mo into the dance. Waltzes were simple, yet Mo was surprised by how well Stella danced. She swirled Mo around the dance floor, held her gently, and never once stepped on her feet. Mo couldn’t remember the last time she had enjoyed a dance this much and relaxed in her arms.

“Surely we’re intimate enough to be on a first name basis by now,” Stella said. “Or do I have to take you home first, Mohini? Because I would be more than happy to do so.”

“In your dreams, Yamada,” Mo scoffed.

“Always,” Stella grinned.

When the waltz ended Scott claimed her hand for the next dance and Stella melted into the crowd before Mo could protest. Not wanting to cause a scene, she agreed to the dance with her partner. Besides, the dance floor was the safest place to talk and she needed to catch up with him. Still, as they danced away from the other partygoers Mo tried to keep an eye on Stella. She didn’t want the thief—okay, _alleged_ thief—getting into any trouble. Not on her watch.

“Who are you keeping an eye on?” Scott asked. “And are you doing it for business or pleasure?”

“A little of both,” Mo admitted. She wasn’t in the habit of keeping secrets from her partner, but did he really need to know she had been making out with Stella Yamada? She didn’t think so.

“I think I’ve soaked up most of the current gossip. There wasn’t much new other than the usual changing affairs. Putin’s picked a new caliber of diplomats that don’t gossip or else we were sent to hang out with the B-listers because no one has said anything of importance.”

“Damn,” Mo said. She had lost sight of Stella when she ducked behind a lady decked out like a piñata, instantly disappearing.

“My reaction exactly,” Scott agreed, misunderstanding standing Mo’s frustration. “On the bright side, I now know how to kill a grizzly bear. Did you accomplish anything?”

“I got into one of the offices and confiscated all the papers I could find. Don’t ask me how I got in.”

“I take it that’s where the pleasure mixed into the business?” Scott smirked. Mo rolled her eyes, doing her best to ignore him.

After this dance Mo made a beeline for the buffet table and drank some punch. She couldn’t believe she had lost sight of Stella again. She was a trained professional who could typically keep track of half a dozen targets in a crowded room. All she could do was hope Stella wouldn’t get into too much trouble unsupervised—which Mo would be the first to admit was a hopeless endeavor.

“Sup.”

“Stella!” Mo grinned as she turned to her. She had only been missing for ten minutes, max. Surely that wasn’t enough time for her to pull off a heist.

“Mohini, I’ve had an absolute blast with you tonight,” Stella said, leaning on the table. “However, I’ve had enough partying for one evening, so I’m heading out. Come with me?”

“In what realm of reality do you think I’d actually take you up on your offer?”

“Then can I at least get a kiss goodbye?” If Mo didn’t know better, she’d say Stella was trying to employ puppy dog eyes on her. “You were more than ready to get hot and heavy with me less than an hour ago.”

“Fine,” Mo sighed. She held up a finger. “One kiss.”

“That’s all I need.”

She was more restrained than she had been in the office. That was unsurprising, but Mo found herself enjoying this kiss almost as much. At least until she felt something ghost along the side of her breast. Furious, Mo jerked back and slapped Stella’s face. She couldn’t believe Stella had groped her; sure it was unwise to trust her around fine art and other valuables, but she thought Stella had the decency to respect personal boundaries.

“I can’t believe you,” Mo snarled.

“You’ll thank me later,” Stella promised with a wink and smirk.

“Like hell I will!”

“And that’s our cue to go,” Scott said, gently grabbing Mo by the shoulders and steering her away from Stella before she could strangle her. He frog marched her toward the embassy entrance as the other guests stared. “Calm down. You’re causing a scene and you know we don’t want to draw attention.”

“Fine,” Mo snapped. She was furious. Most of her anger was due to the way Stella could get to her, seemingly without trying. “Let’s go. We’ve done everything we can here.”

When she got home that evening Mo still felt flustered. Every time she thought about Stella her pulse started racing because of course that stupid smirk reminded her of their office encounter. It had been unprofessional and she would have found more on her own if Stella hadn’t been distracting her. After they left the party Mo had turned the papers she collected over to their handler while Scott shared all of his gathered dirt. The handler hadn’t seemed impressed, but promised to pass it up the channel. Of course he would because that was his job and he’d tell his bosses how unimpressed he was with Mo and Scott.

Mo growled as she ripped her bra off. She should have said something about Stella fucking Yamada being at the embassy, but she hadn’t. She’d been too embarrassed by her lack of self control to mention it during debriefing and that was going to bite her in the rear at some later date. Mo just knew it. Government agents didn’t make out with suspected thieves in embassies without orders to do so.

“Oww,” Mo yelped when something small and hard hit her foot. She looked down and blinked because she had no idea how a flash drive had landed on her foot. It didn’t look like one of hers.

She picked it up and, after a moment’s consideration, got out the old laptop she kept meaning to give her mother. If there were something nasty on this drive, Mo would rather not infect her main computer. She disconnected the Wi-Fi as well, figuring this at least would keep anyone from remotely accessing her things. Like any good agent, she didn’t bring sensitive things home, but she liked to keep her personal things private.

When she opened the flash drive Mo was surprised to find there was almost 100 gigabytes of data on it. It hadn’t looked like that big of a drive. There was only one file on the drive, labeled “резервное копирование” with a date. If memory served, that meant something along the lines of “copy” or “duplicate” and while it could be total junk, Mo felt some anticipation as she opened the file. 

Inside were dozens of folders that filled her screen and each contained a multitude of documents. She randomly clicked on a few of them and while most didn’t open because she didn’t have the requisite software, the ones she could access appeared to be Russian forms. A grin spread across her face as she quickly closed the programs and ejected the flash drive. She didn’t have a clue how Stella had managed it, but it looked like she had slipped Mo a complete backup of one of the Russian embassy computers. Perhaps there wasn’t any useful data on the drive, but she had a feeling that there had to be something of importance wedged into the 100 gigs of information.

Mo threw on some slacks and a button down then drove into work. It was almost 3AM when she got in and handed off the drive, but when she explained what she thought was on the drive, the half-asleep techie bolted awake. Of course, the fact she hadn’t turned in the drive to her handler earlier in the evening meant Mo spent an hour in a senior supervisory agent’s office answering questions. She couldn’t tell him that a thief had placed the drive in her bra without her knowledge when they were kissing, so she just mumbled some bullshit about not feeling comfortable turning the sensitive data over to her handler—not quite saying that she didn’t trust him. 

That seemed to do the trick and the supervisor not only accepted Mo’s explanation, but told her she could come into work two hours later than usual, since this operation had run late. The trip home was uneventful and Mo collapsed into bed forgoing her bedtime routine. She slept the sleep of the victorious.

The next day Mo froze when she spotted a bouquet of roses on her desk. No one ought to be sending her roses, much less to her office. A few of the other agents were clearly watching her and that ass Ray had the gall to ask if she’d gotten a sugar daddy. Of course she ignored him.

She strolled over to her desk and examined the flowers. There were a dozen of them, bright red, and in full bloom. Mo didn’t know a lot about flowers, but these appeared to be of high quality and came in a fancy blue glass vase. They wafted a light floral scent toward her, but her attention was more focused on the card attached to the vase with a ribbon. Mo hesitated for a moment, but then plucked the card off the gift. If they had made it this far into the building, someone had already checked to ensure it wasn’t booby-trapped. Mo didn’t know who had sent her flowers, but she had a sneaking suspicion.

 _You, me, habachi?_  
_7 on Friday, at that little place on Cooper Ave._  
_My treat._  
_-S_

“Hey, Mo, good job last night,” Ms. Reznik, her boss, said coming into the room. Mo crumpled the note in her hand and shoved it in her pocket as she came to attention. “You brought in a lot of data and the boys in the lab are going gaga sorting it. They’ve already turned up some interesting stuff.”

“Really? Great,” Mo said, relieved Stella hadn’t slipped her a piled of junk.

“I can’t tell you any more than that about it, but I have a feeling you’ll be getting more interesting work from now on,” Ms. Reznik said with a wink. “Pickett too.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Mo said, straightening a little.

Ms. Reznik smiled and headed to her office. Mo sighed and collapsed into her chair. She smiled at the flowers and pushed their vase to the side of her desk so that she could get to work. By the time she finished sifting through her email it felt like a typical day, but she still couldn’t stop smiling.

“Hey Mo, did we do something particularly special last night that I’m not aware of?” Scott greeted her as he sat down at his own desk across from hers. “Director Brenigan just congratulated me on last night’s mission and all I remember doing is listening to vodka opinions and the ambassador’s last bear hunt. And what’s with the flowers?”

“The stuff I gathered was a little more useful than we initially thought.” She didn’t think it worth mentioning that the really good stuff had been smuggled out in her bra. “I think a lot of people are going to be talking about it for a while.”

“I see,” Scott grinned. “Though it’s a little unfair the boss man sent you flowers and not me.”

“Do you really want one?” Mo asked. She pulled one of the roses out of the vase and offered it to him, but Scott waved it away. She stuck it back with the others.

“Oh, I just remembered! Did you hear that a Serov painting was stolen from the Russian embassy? It was a lesser known piece, not worth that much, but still,” Scott said. He peered at Mo like he was trying to look into her soul. “They think it happened after the party, but didn’t notice until this morning.”

“Wow, I hadn’t heard a thing.” 

At least she now knew what Stella was doing there last night. Russian art generally wasn’t that big of a draw for her, but perhaps France had finally gotten too hot for her to continue visiting regularly. Goodness knows the _Police Nationale_ must still consider her a person of interest after that incident at the Louvre last year.

“Any idea what happened?” Scott asked. “Did you see anything?”

“No, I can safely say I did not see any art theft,” Mo said. That was true. As far as she could tell, Stella hadn’t had any art on her last night. Mo had also seen Stella explain away even more dubious circumstances than their initial encounter at the Russian embassy. She reached into her pocket and felt the card. “However, I might have a lead.”


End file.
